Story
by cup-o'-sweet-T.E.A
Summary: 28-year-old Edward is a music student in New York. All that matters to him in life is his music. Until he meets 17-year-old Story, a troubled runaway. Edward suddenly feels a need to help her, and doing so turns his world upside. AH. R&R please.
1. A Little Kindness

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight, but Story is mine. So is the plot. **

**Read and review please!!!  
**

EPOV

I walked down the streets of New York, making my way back to my one bedroom apartment. It was small, but it did the trick. I liked my life in New York, and I was glad I'd moved all the way across the country to pursue my music. I was 28 and music was the love of my life. Until about five minutes later, I met someone new.

"Hey, dude, you got a light?" I heard a feminine voice ask. I turned, and leaning up against the building on my right, was a dark haired girl, no more than 18. She looked as if she'd spent several nights out on the streets, as her long, black waves were greasy, and her green eyes were ringed with thick smudges of eye makeup. She looked like she'd been crying at some point, and the only clothes she wore on her slim, but curvy frame were a black Ramones t-shirt and black jeans, paired with converse. There was a backpack at her feet. She was very pretty, in her way, but I sensed she was in trouble and needed a friend. I was studying her pretty features when suddenly she snapped me out of it.

"Dude, you gonna lend me a lighter or you gonna just stare at me all day?" She asked.

"No, sorry miss, I don't have a light." I said, apologetically.

"No prob. Could you at least point me to the nearest coffee shop?" She asked. She shoved her hands in her pockets, and I could see the goose bumps on her arms. Of course she'd be cold, it was early October in New York.

"Um, sure, I'll walk you there. It's on my way." I said. She looked at me puzzled, then shrugged, picking up her bag.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

"Story," was her rather abrupt reply. "You?"

"Um, I'm Edward Cullen."

"Cool." She said. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her shiver and cross her arms.

"Where's your jacket?" I asked.

"Um, it sorta got stolen." Story told me.

I shrugged out of my coat, leaving my thick sweater on. I wrapped my warm coat around Story's shoulders.

"Um," she began to protest.

"Just wear it until we get to the diner. They have excellent coffee there." I said.

"Are you sure? I mean won't you get cold?" She asked me.

"No. I'm wearing this thick sweater. My mother bought it for me last Christmas. It's very warm. I'll be fine." I said.

We arrived at the diner where I had eaten many breakfasts, and downed countless cups of coffee.

I held the door open for Story and we grabbed a booth. She set her backpack close to the window and handed me my coat. I set it next to myself.

Alice, a girl who'd been waiting tables there for a long time, and who was a very good friend of mine came to hand us menus.

"Edward, doll, what's shakin'?" She asked me in a thick Brooklyn accent.

"Alice! Not much, just bringing my friend here for brunch." I replied.

"Y'all want coffee to start with?" Alice asked.

"I'd love a cup. Story?" I looked across the table and saw that she was looking in her wallet.

"Um, sure." She said. She appeared to be a runaway, and I knew she probably didn't have that much money with her. I pretended not to notice.

"Alright, loves, I'll have it out for ya in a second." Alice disappeared.

Story pushed her menu away from herself, not bothering to order.

"You've already decided?"

"Nah, I already ate." She said, looking away from me. Her stomach grumbled loudly.

"When?" I asked her. "Tell me the truth."

"Um, three days ago." She mumbled.

"Don't be ridiculous, look at the menu. They have really good food here." I said, pushing the menu towards her.

"Look, Mister, I don't exactly have a lot of money with me. I left it all at home. I can just afford one cup of coffee, and then I guess I don't know what'll happen next. So don't push me."

"Just order something, Story." I said. "I'll pay."

"I can't let you do that." She replied. Cute and stubborn.

"I'll order for you." I threatened.

"I'm not eating." She said. "You can't make me eat if I don't want to eat. Besides, don't you have a girlfriend to get home to or something?"

"No. I don't. Music is my only love. And it can wait. I will sit here all day if I have to in order for you to eat something." I told her, equally stubborn.

"I don't care. I'll drink my coffee and leave." She said.

"Here you are, dears." Alice said, putting our coffee down in front of us.

"Thank you Alice." I said. Story pouted.

"Have you all decided what you'd like to eat?" Alice asked.

"Yes, I'll have an omelet, and Story here will have the French toast." Story glared up at me. I knew Alice had witnessed our conversation earlier, because she smiled at me.

"Also, Alice, I think Story here would like a side of some good ol' Alice hospitality." I said.

Alice volunteered at a youth home when she wasn't working here. She was used to troubled teens with egos bigger than their problems. She understood what I was talking about.

"Comin' right up, dolls." She said, then danced off. Alice really was a pretty girl, with her short black hair and pixie-like features. She was one of the most graceful people I'd ever met, being a dance major at NYU. She had become one of my greatest friends here in New York, almost like a sister. She was dating a fellow named Jasper now, and he was a great guy, he made her happy.

I glanced at Story, who was still glaring, not at me now, but rather out the window. The wind had picked up and a few rain drops fell from the sky.

"So, Story, where are you from?" I asked her.

"Not telling." She replied. Her stubbornness was beginning to annoy me.

"Why's that?" I asked, going along with her. I supposed she had her own reasons.

"Because you'll try to send me back, and I'm never going back to that hell-hole." She said.

I nodded. "Alright. I won't hassle you about it. So, what kinds of things do you like to do?"

"I don't know." This was her way of showing me she didn't really want to talk to me. Alice might have better luck.

"Will you at least tell me how old you are?" I asked.

"Only if you tell me how old you are first." She replied, finally looking up at me. I noticed her green eyes narrow slightly as she studied my features.

"Alright, I'm 28." I said.

"Seventeen." Was her short reply. Alice came out from the back, carrying two plates. She set a plate full of French toast in front of Story, and my omelet in front of me, then she used her hips and pushed Story over in the booth slightly so she could sit next to her. She might have been a small girl, but she was tough.

I grabbed my fork, said a quick grace, then dove into my eggs. The diner made the best omelets anyone could ever eat. Story just sat and glared at the French toast.

"What's wrong? You don't like French toast?" I asked.

"I don't like hand-outs." She replied. She was very stubborn. And proud. And troubled. In that instant I longed to reach out and stroke her cheek, but that would be wrong. She was at least eleven years younger than I, and I didn't want her to think I was just another perverted creep. She'd probably had her fill of creeps hassling her in the past three days.

"You don't like it when cute guys buy you a meal?" Alice asked her. Story's eyes widened and she blushed a scarlet color. I'm sure I blushed a bit too. Not because Alice had referred to me as "cute", because she'd done so on many occasions, but because Story seemed to think so too.

"No, it's because people always expect something in return. And all the guys who've offered me things before always wanted something I didn't want to give." She said.

"Edward's a good guy. He just wants to see that you get a hot meal. Which you won't if you sit her and pout and let it get cold." Alice said. "Come on, just try it. The French toast here is amazing!"

Story reached for a fork, then hesitated.

"Go ahead," I coaxed in the most gentle voice I could. I could just sense that she'd had a life full of pain. She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with tears. In that brief instant, I saw just how much hurt she was feeling, and how much she just wanted to be loved. Then she looked away, shutting down again. She picked up her fork and began to pick at the French toast, eating a few bites here and there.

I returned my attention to my omelet.

"Well, now that you're eating, I suppose I should get back to work." Alice said, disappointed. However, I knew she was right. A few of the other regulars had showed up, looking hungry. Alice was the only waitress on shift. She got up and headed over to take some orders.

Story looked a little more relaxed, and had finished half of her breakfast. Suddenly she began to cry a little. She looked up at me and pushed the plate towards me.

"Um, thanks, Edward. It was really nice of you to do this for me, but I--um--I just really have to go." She gushed, before grabbing her book bag and running out the door, crying. I bolted and grabbed my coat and began to fumble with my wallet.

"Edward, I got it, just go." Alice shouted at me.

"Thanks, Alice, I owe you one." I said, running out the door.

"Just get her the help she needs!" I heard Alice call towards me as I ran from the diner. Story was at least half a block ahead of me, but she was a slow runner. I'd ran track in high school, and I still ran at least three times a week. I was much faster than she was.

Story ran to the end of the block and made a right. I wasn't far behind her. By the time I caught up to her, she'd tripped and fallen, then brought her knees up to her chest, sitting against a building. The fall had caused the knees of her jeans to tear and both knees were bleeding. By now she was sobbing. Each cry was almost painful to listen to. I sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she cried.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, pulling a clean tissue from my pocket. I began to dab at the blood coming from her knees.

"No! I'm not okay! I'm tired and I haven't showered in four days, and I can't go home because my dad will kill me, but he probably would've anyways, that's why I left in the first place." She ranted. That's when I noticed the fading bruises on her arms. I shrugged out of my coat again and wrapped it around her.

"Then you show up and start being nice to me," she said, her tears slowing. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because I want to be. Not because I want anything from you. I just thought you could use a friend." I replied.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk." She whispered. "But no one's ever been nice to me before."

"Well, I'm going to help you get on your feet, and surround you with lots of people who will be nice to you. Alice and myself included."

"Why?" She asked. She was so jaded, so untrusting.

"Because everyone deserves a little kindness."


	2. Angels and Dangers

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, but I own Story and the plot.**

**R&R please.**

**Story POV**

I couldn't understand this Edward guy. He was just too nice. Maybe he was an angel. My mother had told me about angels before she died. She'd told me that God always knew when you needed help, and he'd send you an angel.

That's what had caused me to cry in the diner. Edward's kindness had reminded me of my mother. But Daddy, if I could even call him that, had beat her so bad she went unconscious and never woke up. But Edward didn't need to know that. And I was so close to just telling him everything.

So I ran. And Edward had followed me, and he was here now, listening to me rant about how rough the last few days had been. I just wanted to have him hug me and tell me it would be alright, but I doubted he would.

I asked him why he wanted to help me so much.

"Because everyone deserves a little kindness." He'd said.

Even people like me? I'd wondered. Daddy had always told me the reason Mom had died was because of me. I'd been a sorry excuse for a daughter, he'd said, and Mom had to go away because having me was a sin. And I'd believed him for years.

Although I knew that my father was an unstable man, some part of me wondered if he was right. I'd certainly done things that weren't very nice, like forget to pick up my toys as a small child, or get a bad grade. My grades now weren't stellar either. I wondered if anyone at school knew I was gone. If they'd call and ask. I wondered if my Dad would even notice I was missing.

I wiped the tears from my face and looked up at Edward. He helped me to my feet and we walked back to the diner. My knees and palms stung from falling on the side-walk.

"Come on," Edward said. "We'll get those scrapes cleaned up. There's a first aid kit at the diner. Alice will help you."

I nodded silently, resisting the urge to run. I still didn't know if I could trust him, but my mother's voice in my head allowed me to risk it.

"If you ever find yourself in trouble, just ask God for an angel." It buzzed in my head. Goodness knows that I'd asked for an angel every night that Daddy had come home drunk. But no angel had ever come. Just Daddy, and with Daddy came slaps and bruises.

Maybe I'd had to leave home for my angel to come to me.

"Story! Are you okay?" I heard Alice ask, as we walked through the door to the diner. I'd been so deep in thought I hadn't even noticed we'd gotten there. I nodded.

Alice ushered me into the bathroom and began to rinse out the scrapes on the heels of my hands. She applied some sort of disinfectant to each hand, then some antibiotic cream. Then she'd used an alcohol wipe on my knees, and applied the same disinfectant and cream to them before applying bandages. I decided to take the opportunity to rinse my face and straighten my hair. It wasn't perfect, but it'd have to do.

I came back out, and Edward was waiting for me.

"Thanks Alice." I said. She gave my shoulder a light squeeze before looking at Edward.

"Take good care of her, Edward." She said.

With that, Edward and I walked out the door. I didn't know where he was taking me, but I decided I would follow. We walked for blocks in silence, before stopping in front of a building. I could see it was a youth shelter.

"Listen, Story, this shelter is a really nice place to stay. Alice volunteers here ever spare minute she can find. They'll get you some clean clothes, a bed, some hot food and a shower for as long as you need. They'll take good care of you, I promise." He said.

I nodded. Of course, my angel wouldn't want to stay with me. He was probably lying when he said he didn't have a girlfriend. He was a good-looking guy, with his unruly bronze hair, green eyes and angular jaw. He walked in with me to meet the people that I'd be staying with.

A blonde girl was sitting at a desk, reading a magazine. She put it down as soon as she heard us enter.

"Can I help you?" She asked. Her nametag told me her name was Pamela.

"Yes, this is my friend Story, and she needs a place to stay."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but we're overly full right now." She said sadly. "Perhaps try back tomorrow?"

"Um, Story, can you go sit down for a second?" Edward asked me. I took a seat in a folding chair, and Edward leaned in to talk to Pamela, but I could hear everything he said. I had excellent hearing.

"Look, I'm good friends with Alice Brandon and Jasper Whitlock. And Story is a personal friend of Alice's. She just needs somewhere safe to stay until we can figure something out." He said.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we have nowhere to put her. We've got kids sleeping on floors, siblings sharing beds, it's crammed. Perhaps another shelter?" She asked.

"You and I both know that none of the other shelters on this end of town are safe enough for a seventeen-year-old girl." Edward said.

"I know, sir, and I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do." She told him.

He clenched his fists and walked towards me.

"Come on, Story, we're leaving." He told me, grabbing my shoulder gently and pulling me towards the door.

Once outside we started walking. I had no idea where on Earth we were going, but he seemed to, so I followed. He seemed angry, and neither of us spoke until we got to a subway station.

"Look, I've got a small one-bedroom apartment with a nice fold-out couch and a shower. You can stay there until we figure something out. Alice should have some fresh clothes for you to borrow." He said. I panicked.

"Um, Edward. That's really sweet, but I can't. I'll just do what I was doing before. I'll be okay. And tomorrow, I'll check back at that youth shelter." I said.

"No, Story. I can't let you do that. It's not safe. Someone could hurt you." He replied. He seemed to care a lot about what happened to me. Well, he was after all an angel. Wasn't it his job? I shook my head.

"Really, Edward. I'll be fine. I promise. I was fine before you helped me. I'll be okay. Thank you so much for brunch, and for trying. You're a really sweet guy. I hope the best for you." I said, walking away.

"Wait, Story!" Edward called. I turned back to face him.

He'd pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of his pocket and he was writing stuff down.

"Listen, if you find yourself in any kind of trouble, call this number or come to this address." He , handing me the paper. "Also, take my coat. I have plenty of others, and it's going to get cold tonight."

"Oh Edward, I can't." I said.

"Don't be stubborn about this, please. I really wish you'd come stay with me tonight, where you'll be safe, but I can see that you don't trust me, so I won't pressure you. But promise me, if you need me, call me." He begged.

"Okay, I promise." I told him.

"Good luck. I'll pray for you tonight." He said.

And then I watched my angel walk away.

* * *

Several hours later, it was about eleven at night. I found myself just a few blocks away from where I'd last seen Edward, and just a little ways away from the youth shelter. I plunked down on a bench.

"Dear God," I said, staring up at the night sky. "Please, please let me see my angel again."

I wrapped his coat tighter around myself, and held my bag to my chest.

"Did I just hear you ask for an angel?" A creepy voice asked. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up. A tall, shadowy man in his twenties with blonde hair and a toothy grin was staring down at me. He leaned in close.

"I can be your angel, sweetheart." He breathed. His breath smelled of alcohol.

"Um, no thank you. I already have an angel." I said shakily. His hand snaked down from my shoulder until it was touching my breast.

"Are you sure it's not me?" He asked, squeezing me. I slapped his hand away and grabbed my bag, bolting from the bench. I ran several blocks with him hot on my trail. I didn't know what else to do, I couldn't phone the police or Edward without him catching up to me.

I pulled Edward's address from the coat pocket. I looked up at the street signs and realized I was only a few blocks away from him.

He had said that if I needed him I could go there. And I needed someone at the moment. The blonde creep reached out and grabbed my hair. I hadn't realized that I'd slowed while looking at the paper in my hands.

"Come on, baby, I just wanna have a little fun." He said, turning me to face him

"Then go home and have fun by yourself." I said, kneeing him in the groin.

I took off, only a block away from Edward now. I ran, paying attention to the building numbers. Suddenly I was there. I looked back, and the creep was struggling to catch up.

"Please be here Edward." I said, tears in my eyes, before pressing his number.

A few seconds later I heard his voice through the speaker box.

"Hello?" He sounded sleepy. Shit, I'd woken him up.

"Edward! It's Story, help!" I screamed.


	3. House Guest

I don't own Twilight. But I do own Story.

R&R please!!!

* * *

**Edward POV**

I'd worried all day about Story. What if someone hurt her? I should've just picked her up and carried her home with me, like a caveman. Alice was going to be furious when she found out that I hadn't done as she had told me.

I was such an idiot! I spent the better part of the evening mentally kicking myself and praying for her safety. Finally, at eleven, I'd drifted off into an uneasy sleep full of terrible dreams of Story getting hurt.

About an hour after I'd fallen into my horrifying sleep, my buzzer rang. I bolted out of bed. No one buzzed me at this hour. It had to be Story.

"God, let it be Story." I said.

"Hello?" I said a little sleepily.

"Edward! It's Story, help!" I heard her say. I ran down out the door and down the two flights of stairs to the security door. Thank God I only lived on the second floor. I flung the door open, and found Story there, and a drunken, blonde male running towards her. I pulled her into the building, and shut the door. The drunken blonde started pounding on the door, calling for her. Story began to cry.

"Story, please don't cry. It's okay. You're safe now." I said, pulling her into my arms. She almost collapsed. She was probably exhausted.

"Story, how far did you run?" I asked.

"I don't know, seven or so blocks?" She replied. I led her up the stairs, taking her bag from her.

"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up and put you to bed." I said.

Once inside, Story began to look around my apartment.

"Wait here," I told her. "I'm going to see if I can find you a t-shirt and sweats to wear."

I went to my room and began digging through my dresser, finally finding an old Fork High t-shirt and some black sweat pants.

I went back to the living room, and found Story studying my family photos.

"Is this your family?" She asked, her face growing sad.

"Um, yes." I said. "My father is a doctor, and my mother is a stay-at-home mom. My older brother Emmett is a professional baseball player, and he and his wife Rosalie are expecting their first child in March."

Sometimes I missed my family, but I decided now was not the time to be homesick.

"Come on, I'll show you to the bathroom." I said. Story picked up her bag and followed.

"Well, er, enjoy your bath, or shower, or whatever." I said, getting flustered. Then I shut the door.

I began to make the fold-out bed comfortable enough for Story. I put clean, cotton sheets and about four blankets, along with two pillows on it. That only took me about ten minutes. When I was finished with that, Story was still in the bathroom, so I decided to tidy up my kitchen a bit. I was a fairly neat person, but my apartment was no where near perfect.

I put a few dishes in the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. That task took me about five minutes to complete. Story was still in the bathroom.

My stomach rumbled and I realized that I hadn't eaten anything since I was at the diner that morning. I fixed myself some toast and tea, then sat down at the little counter to eat it. I chewed slowly, and sipped my tea between bites. After I was finished, Story had been in the shower for at least twenty-five minutes.

I went and rapped on the door.

"Story, are you alright?" I asked. No answer. I rapped a little louder.

"Story?" Nothing. Panic gripped my insides.

"Story!" I pounded. The door opened.

"What?" She asked. I relaxed again.

Her damp hair hung down her back, and her face was clean. I could see that she had perfect skin, and she looked even prettier when her face was natural. She was wearing my t-shirt and sweats.

"Um, well, you, er, were in here for a long time, and I was just making sure you were alright." I said.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said. "I was just scrubbing all the homeless-person grime out of your bathtub before I came out." She laughed. She had the cutest laugh.

"Oh, well, I make a bed on the fold out for you. It's actually really comfortable, surprisingly, and um, I can make you some tea and toast if you'd like." I told her.

"Oh, thanks. Um, I think I'll just go to sleep. I'm exhausted. I haven't slept for days." I nodded, and showed her to her bed. She pulled back the sheets and climbed in, nestling down into the soft bedding.

"Well, goodnight." I said. I locked and dead-bolted the door.

"Goodnight," she whispered. Before I even made it to the door she was already almost asleep.

I climbed back into my bed, having turned off the lights. I lay in my bed completely still for a while, just listening to the sounds of Story's breathing from the other room. It took her mere minutes to drift off to sleep, and I noticed that she had begun to mumble in her sleep. I listened closely, wanting to hear what she would say.

"You were right, Mom. Angels do exist." I heard her say in her sleep. Then she was silent. I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. It was well past ten in the morning.

Shit! What if she'd bailed? I bolted from my bed and rushed out into the living room/kitchen area. The bed was made, and Story was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.

"Um, hi." She said.

"Good morning. Smells delicious, what are you making?" I asked.

"Um, something my mom used to make me when I was a kid. Nothing that special. But I figured that since you've been so nice to me, I've got to do something in return." She said.

"You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it." I told her. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she seemed more rested, healthier looking.

"Well, I thought I'd do it just the same." She said.

"Well, thank you. That's very thoughtful." I replied. "I'm going to call Alice and see if she can bring by some clean clothes for you, or something."

She turned her attention back to the stove.

I dialed Alice's cell number.

"Hello?" Alice answered.

"Hi, it's Edward." I said. "I was just wondering if you had some clothes that Story could borrow. She's about your size."

"Yeah, sure! What do you think she'd like to wear?" Alice asked.

"Er, uh, I don't know. Clothes?" I said. Alice was silly for asking me that kind of stuff. I had no idea what kind of clothes a girl would like.

"Very funny Edward. I'll just bring by some things I think she'll like and we'll get it sorted out." She said.

"Sounds good." I said. "See you in a bit." We hung up and I turned my attention back to Story.

"Well, I guess we've got to get thinking about what to do. I mean as far as living arrangements and everything go. And of course you'll have to go to school. No ands, ifs, or buts." I said. I sounded like my mother.

"Um. Okay." Was all Story could reply.

"And of course, if you're going to stay here, there will have to be some rules. Like you'll have to quit smoking." I said. Why was I being so bossy?

"Excuse me?" She said. Uh-oh. I'd offended her.

"You did ask me for a lighter yesterday." I said.

"Well, yeah, I know. But you can't just expect me to stop smoking." She said.

"Please." I begged. "And you're only seventeen, it's not even legal. Where did you get cigarettes anyways?"

"Why do you care so much!" It was more a frustrated statement than a question.

"Because, I just do! And so does Alice! And it would break her heart if she knew you smoked!" I shouted.

"Ugh! I knew it! I knew you people would want something from me!" She said. She grabbed her back pack and stormed out of the door.

"Great. Good going, Cullen. Alice is really going to love you now." I said to myself. I turned to the stove to tend to the food she'd left cooking. Chocolate chip pancakes. Here she was cooking me a delicious breakfast, and I went and offended her and tried to push her around. Great. Just great.

Ten minutes later the buzzer rang. Well, shit. Alice was here and I'd lost Story. Lovely.

I buzzed her in, and braced myself for a terrible tongue-lashing, but when I went to open the door, an apologetic Story was standing there.

"I'm, uh, sorry." She said. I stepped aside, letting her back into the apartment. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't mean to freak out on you like that. And, don't get the wrong idea about me, like don't think I have problems with authority or anything." She said. "I don't, I just, I don't know."

"It's okay. Where did you go?" I asked her.

"Um, well, I tried to run, but I realized I had no where to go. So I ended up going to the dumpster and throwing that pack of cigarettes out. I hadn't smoked any. In fact I never smoked a cigarette in my life." She answered.

"Why were you going to start?" This beautiful, stubborn girl was a mystery.

"Well, I suppose I was going to do it to spite my father. But I realized about five minutes ago, that if I did, he most likely wouldn't care. I actually stole them from him. I don't know why." She said.

I nodded. "Alice will be here soon."

"Are there any other rules I should know about?" She asked softly.

"You mean, you'll stay?"

"Sure, I mean, I don't really have anywhere else to go. And after last night--" she shuddered.

"Good. And don't get the wrong idea about me either. I'm usually not an overbearing jerk." I said.

"Good to know." She said. She hadn't denied the fact. I'm glad she hadn't. I'd assumed too much and I'd tried to hold her down. I got the sense that she'd been held down for too long and wasn't going to put up with anyone else's shit, not even mine.

The buzzer rang again. This time I knew it was Alice. I buzzed her in and I heard the soft patter of her feet coming up the stairs. She opened the door, all smiles as usual.

"Hey guys, what's up?" She asked. She plopped down on the bed next to Story, and wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug.

"I brought you some clothes chickadee!" She said. Story smiled back up at Alice, a little hesitantly.

"Come on, let's go try them on!" Alice said, grabbing Story's hand and leading her into my bed room.

About ten minutes later, they came back out, and Story was dressed in a simple gray tank top and some black sweat pants.

"Well, you guys have a lot of stuff to go over, and I have to go to the diner and start work, so call me later if you need me." Alice said.

"Thank you, Alice." Story said softly.

"Aw, no problem, doll." Alice replied happily, before skipping out the door. That little woman never ceased to amaze me.

"I saved the pancakes," I said, after Alice left.

"Oh shit!" Story exclaimed, then blushed a deep scarlet color. "I mean, shoot! I forgot all about that. Sorry!"

She began bustling about the kitchen, before I grabbed her elbow gently.

"I got it. You just sit down at the table, and think about some of the stuff you'll need to get. I'm sure we'll need to get you some stuff at the store later." I said.

"Um, that's not necessary Edward." She said.

"Of course it is, you've got to have school supplies, more clothes, books," I began, trying to think of other things she might need.

"Um, about school. I really don't want to go back there. My dad could find me. And I don't want to go back home. I'd rather go back out on the streets than home. I could drop out and get my GED and just be over with it." She said.

"No. Absolutely not." I refused.

"But, it's six weeks until graduation, I don't know if I can keep it up for six weeks. My dad is sure to notice I'm gone sometime, if he hasn't already." She told me.

"Maybe, we can talk to some people. Get them to say he can't have anything to do with you." I said.

"We have to have proof." She lied.

"I noticed the bruises on your arm." I replied.

"Oh." That's all she had to say.

"Come on. We'll take you to the doctor, get some pictures taken, take them to child services and have it taken care of." I said, thinking it would be an easy task.

"It's not so easy, Edward. I tried. And I went into foster care for about six months. Then my dad got anger management and rehab, then the courts decided he was better, so they put me back with him. I think his sobriety lasted a week." A tear rolled down her cheek. I put breakfast on the table, not knowing what to say.

She stared at her plate for a while, before beginning to eat.

"It'll only be a few months until you're eighteen, right?" I asked.

"Something like that." She said.

"When is your birthday?" Silence.

"Story?" I prodded. Still silence. "I'll find out someway or another."

She shrugged. I shook my head, annoyed.

The rest of the morning passed in an awkward silence.

Noon approached and it was time for me to go to work. I got Story's attention to let her know I was about to leave.

"Okay, so I have to go to work now. I'll be done at 6, and I'll leave my cell phone number, and Alice's cell and the number at the diner for you if you need anything. The phone is in the living room. I work at the music store, which is only four blocks away. I've written the address down for you, too."

"Edward. I'll be okay. I'm almost 18, I can take care of myself." She replied.

"Are you sure? I'll only be a phone call away." She rolled her eyes at me.

"I'm sure! Go already! I'll still be here when you get home!" She said, exasperated.

"Oh, before I forget. There's not really a whole lot of food left, so here's some money if you want to go to the diner." I handed her a ten. "Call Alice if you want to go. She doesn't work until five, so she can swing by and pick you up."

"Okay, thanks." She said.

I smiled at her and then headed out the door.


End file.
